2. All, that spring, with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All, that lib'ral autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing stores:
3. These to thee, our God! we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow!
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
4. Yet should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the rip'ning ear;
Should the fig-trees blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit:
5. Should the vine put forth no more,
Nor the olive yield her store:
Though the sick'ning flocks should fall,
And the herbs desert the stall:

6. Should thine alter'd hand restrain
Vernal show'rs and latter rain,
Blast each op'ning bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy:
7. Yet to thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise;
And, when ev'ry blessing's flown,
Love thee for thyself alone!

HYMN 457. s. M.

1. AS various as the moon

Is man's estate below:

To his bright day of gladness soon
Succeeds a night of wo.

2. The night of wo resigns

Its darkness and its grief;
Again the morn of comfort shines,
And brings our souls relief.

3. Yet not from fickle chance
These varying scenes arise:
Our dark and brighter hours advance,
By laws supremely wise.

4. God measures out to all
Their lot of good and ill;

Nor this too great, nor that too small, Ordain'd by heav'n's high will.

5. Hopeful and humble bear Thy evil and thy good;

1.

Nor by presumption, nor despair,
Weak mortal, be subdu'd.

HYMN 458. P. M.

PROVIDENCE, profusely kind,

Wheresoe'er you turn your eyes, Bids you with a grateful mind View a thousand blessings rise. 2. Thankful own what you enjoy : But a changing world like this, Where a thousand fears annoy, Cannot give you perfect bliss, 3. Perfect bliss resides above, Far above yon azure sky; Bliss, that merits all your love, Merits ev'ry anxious sigh. 4. What like this has earth to give? O ye righteous! in your breast Let the admonition live,

Nor on earth desire to rest.

5. When your bosom heaves a sigh,
Or your eye emits a tear,
Let your wishes rise on high,
Ardent rise to bliss sincere.'

HYMN 459. s. M.

1. HOW gracious and how wise
Is our chastising God!

And O! how rich the blessings are,
That blossom from his rod !

2. He lifts it up on high,

With pity in his heart;

That ev'ry stroke his children feel

May grace and peace impart.

3. Instructed thus, they bow

And own his sov'reign sway;

They turn their erring footsteps back
To his forsaken way.

4. His cov❜nant love they seek,
And seek the happy bands
That closer still engage their hearts,
To honour his commands.

5. Submissive, Lord! we yield
To discipline divine,

1.

And bless the pains that make us still,
More uniformly thine.

HYMN 460 L. M.

FATHER! I bless thy gentle hand: How kind was thy chastising rod, That forc'd my conscience to a stand, And brought my wand'ring soul to God! 2. Foolish and vain I went astray,

Ere I had felt thy scourges, Lord!
I left my guide, and lost my way;
But now I love and keep thy word.
3. 'Tis good for me to wear the yoke,
For pride is apt to rise and swell;
'Tis good to bear my Father's stroke,
That I might learn his statutes well.
4. The law, that issues from thy mouth,
Shall raise my cheerful passions more
Than all the treasures of the south,
Or western hills of golden ore.

5. Thy hands have made my mortal frame,
Thy spirit form'd my soul within:
Teach me to know thy wondrous name,
And guard me safe from death and sin.
6. Then all, that love and fear the Lord,
At my salvation shall rejoice;
For I have trusted in thy word,

And made thy grace my only choice.
HYMN 461. L. M.

HOW well our great Preserver knows,
To weigh and to relieve our woes!

Behold his wrath's avenging blast,
How slow to rise, how soon o'erpast!
2. How prompt his favour to dispense
Its life-imparting influence!

How speedy his paternal love
Our deep afflictions to remove!
3. Grief for a night, obtrusive guest,
Beneath our roof perhaps may rest;
But joy, with the returning day,
Shall wipe each transient tear away.
4. With what delight, great God, I trace
The acts of thy stupendous grace !~
To count them, were to count the sand
That lies upon the sea-beat strand.

HYMN 462. c. M.

1. NAKED as from the earth we came
And crept to life at first,

We to the earth return again,
And mingle with our dust.

2. 'Tis God, who lifts our comforts high,
Or sinks them in the grave.

He gives; and, blessed be his name,

He takes but what he gave.

3. Peace, all our angry passions then :
Let each rebellious sigh

Be silent at his sov'reign will,
And ev'ry murmur die.

4. If smiling mercy crown our lives,
Its praises shall be spread;
Nor will we call unjust the hand,
That strikes our comforts dead.

HYMN 463. L. M.

1. THE darken'd sky, how thick it low'rs! Troubl'd with storms, and big with show'rs; No cheerful gleam of light appears,

But nature pours forth all her tears.

2. Yet let the sons of grace revive:

God bids the soul, that seeks him, live;

And, from the gloomiest shade of night,
Calls forth a morning of delight.

3. The seeds of ecstacy unknown
Are in these water'd furrows sown.

See the green blades, how thick they rise,
And with fresh verdure bless our eyes!

4. In secret foldings they contain
Unnumber'd ears of golden grain ;
And heav'n shall pour its beams around,
"Till the ripe harvest load the ground.
5. Then shall the trembling mourner come,
And find his sheaves and bring them home;
The voice, long broke with sighs, shall sing,
"Till heav'n with hallelujahs ring.

HYMN 464 L. M.

1. MY God, whose all-pervading eye

Views earth beneath, and heav'n above:
Witness, if here or there thou seest
An object of mine equal love.

2. Not the gay scenes, where mortal men
Pursue their bliss and find their wo,
Detain my rising heart, which springs
The nobler joys of heav'n to view.
3. Fix'd near th' immortal seat of bliss,
Dauntless, and joyous, it surveys
Each form of horror and distress,

That all its deadliest foes can raise. 4. This feeble flesh shall faint and die,

This heart renew its pulse no more; Ev'n now it views the moment nigh, When life's last movements all are o'er. 5. But come, thou vanquish'd King of dread! With thy own hand thy pow'r destroy. "Tis thine to bear me to my God,

My portion, my eternal joy.

HYMN 465. c. M.

1. THE evils that beset our path,
Who can prevent or cure?
We stand upon the brink of death,
When most we seem secure,